Life Goes On
by cooliochick5
Summary: Lars never liked doctors' offices in general, but today, he knew he should hate them.
1. Chapter 1

Teenagers were always tired, right? It was just a common thing for people between the ages of thirteen and eighteen, right? Did Lars even count as a teenager anymore? He had just turned eighteen two weeks ago, he was an adult now! Sort of...

The constant sleeping he did around work and home that usually resulted in Sadie's anger just seemed so normal to him. Ever since highschool, the kid would sleep when ever possible, but now, he was almost desperate to sleep. Constantly, he felt the need to rest or at least sit down for awhile. It even got to a point where he began leaving a chair behind the counter just in case.

And it was normal to get cold every once in awhile, right? Despite living on a beach, Lars always felt light shivers creep up and always pegged it as being the air conditioner making the room too cold. He started wearing a long sleeve shirt under any of his shirts really, trying to combat the chills, but they always seemed to get to him. Stupid A.C, always making the room just too damn cold.

Bruise were a common thing with the boy, too. He'd find one on his knee, above his hip, on his forearm, anything that could collide with furniture actually. They would spring up from a slight hit, but maybe it was because Lars was too thin. Yeah, that makes sense. He never really felt the desire to eat. These feelings would come up out of no where and usually last a few days, however, the lack of wanting to eat became a daily thing and the boy usually found himself eating a handful of chips to get his parents and friends to shut up about it.

Prehaps it was from the lack of eating that was causing the sudden headaches that plagued Lars for days on end, which, for once, he realized was not normal. It wasn't until one morning when the boy had went to look at a bruise on his side and was met with small red spots instead of purple flesh that he began to actually worry.

He had seen this exact same thing in a movie once, not that he could remember the title. All he did remember was that the movie didn't end well. It took a full five minutes of staring at the spots until Lars actually decided to do something about it.

"Hey, m-mom," He called from the bathroom, finding that with each passing second, it got harder and harder to breathe, "Can you come look at this?"

* * *

><p>Leave it to parents to over-react about everything. Lars' mom had taken one look at the spots and rushed him to the family doctor. Along the way, she had called Lars' father and told him to meet them there. It in no way eased the boy's headache as his mom spoke urgently into the phone, the edge in her voice was like nails on a chalk board. HIs dad had met them in the waiting room, engaging in a hushed conversation with his wife, trying to grasp the full extent of the situation.<p>

Lars never liked doctors' offices in general, but today, he knew he should hate them. They began by asking a ton of questions that he didn't know the answer to, pressing along his skin for some reason, then ordering a round of tests. Now, Lars was never scared of needles, but watching the blood leave your arm in such a large amount was enough to make any kid throw up. The last test was a bone marrow something and something, all Lars knew was that it hurt. He had shut his eyes when it started and didn't open them until it was over.

"It's gonna be fine, right? I'm okay?" He looked up at his mother, who only reached for his hand. His dad rested a hand on his shoulder and a small sense of fear returned to him.

That fear would become full-blown when Lars would find himself sitting back in the doctor's office between his parents, his mother crying and his dad with his head in his hands. Lars had to almost strain his ears to hear the doctor correctly.

"Um...c-could you say t-that again?" He chews his bottom lip, hoping he had heard wrong the first time.

The doctor removes his glasses and sets them on the desk before him. He folds his hands in front of him before delivering the news again,

"You have leukemia."

**_Disclaimers: I own nothing_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Lars' POV:**_

Never has a walk to work been so...slow? I really can't think of how else to put it. The world just kind of seems to be mowing in slow motion right now. I could try running, maybe get things back to normal, but I really don't want to.

It's kind of a lonely feeling right now; I know damn well that to everyone else of the board walk, the world is still turning. Everything is still normal for them.

Ronaldo is working on that dumb blog of his, going off about some 'evidence' he had just found.

PeeDee and his dad are running their shop together, currently working on another batch of fry bits.

Jenny, Kiki, Buck Dewey, and Sour Cream sit outside Fish Stew Pizza, listening to some band I didn't know the name of.

Mr. Pizza and his mom are arguing back and forth about the latest damages caused by the Crystal Gems. Seriously though, it was just a broken window.

Connie reading a book out on the beach while Steven runs about the sand with the Crystal Gems, playing some weird version of tag.

Onion and his dad talk in some weird language while walking around the docks.

Greg Universe is washing Mayor Dewey's car while the man rambles on about his new campaign for his re-election.

Mr. Smiley is running the arcade, mumbling some lyrics he's working on for a 'come-back album'.

I know all these people by name, and yet, they don't know me. They don't know what I am up to. They don't know what news I had just gotten.

To them, nothing is off about me and even if they did, they wouldn't care. I've never really done anything to make them care about me, so why would having leukemia make it any different?

I'm sick and more than likely going to die, but that wouldn't change a thing for these people.

Ronaldo would still be working on that dumb blog of his, going off about some 'evidence' he just found.

PeeDee and his dad would still be running their shop together.

Jenny, Kiki, Buck Dewey, and Sour Cream would still be sitting outside Fish Stew Pizza, listening to some band I still don't know the name of.

Mr. Pizza and his mom would still be arguing back and forth about the latest damages caused by the Crystal Gems.

Connie would be reading a book out on the beach while Steven runs about the sand with the Crystal Gems, playing some weird version of tag.

Onion and his dad would talk in some weird language while walking around the docks.

Greg Universe would still be washing Mayor Dewey's car while the man rambles on about his new campaign for his re-election.

Mr. Smiley would still be running the arcade, mumbling some lyrics he's working on for a 'come-back album'.

The only difference is, I wouldn't be there to notice. But that would be just fine, me being sick wouldn't change a thing.

Me being gone wouldn't change anything either. It was frustrating really. I just wanted to scream at everyone. How could they not notice!? I'm probably dying and nobody cares! How is this actually happening!? Why is this actually happening...

Why am I asking so many questions? I don't want an answer to these things anyway. All I want right now is to get to work and sleep in the break room until my shift is over.

"Where were you!? The shop opened two hours ago!" Sadie is already flinging the door open before I even have the time to grab the handle. Judging by her still gripping the handle, I knew she probably had a whole rant planned out. I really didn't have time for it, though. The only thing standing between me and my nap was the blonde devil in the door way. Still, I figure I'd let her yell at me before telling her what had kept me.

"You're always doing this, Lars! You're always coming in late and then all you do is sleep!" Her yelling doesn't have it's usual effect, actually. The world is still moving in slow motion for me and whatever feelings I usually had toward this sort of thing were numbed. Her words didn't even make sense to me right now. They hit my ears and bounced off, completely ignored. Sadie seems to pick up on this and actually goes as far as to smack me for it.

"Are you even listening!? What took you so long anyway!?" She folds her arms over her chest, waiting for her answer. The words got me thing time as I suddenly realized I would have to tell her what was going on. At this point, the world is suddenly in fast forward and I don't know how to keep up. I fix my eyes on a near by ceiling light, trying to become interested in something else, but Sadie won't let me.

Her questions, though this time lacking the bite her previous ones had, attempt to get me to pay attention.

"Lars...why were you late...?"

"Was at the doctor's office..." I'm seriously glad she's so short, it makes it easier for me to avoid eye contact.

"Oh...why...?" Sadie's words have lost all their anger. I really have no idea what made me say it so straight forward, and I actually feel bad about it when the words leave my mouth, but there was no stopping it,

"I have leukemia."

And just like that, Sadie's anger returns and a slap is aimed at my arm, "Quit playing around. Why were you actually there?" Her arms are folded again and a glare is now stuck on her face.

I make the mistake of actually looking at her now. Her glare burns into my soul...kind of, and it makes my eyes burn and water...no, wait...

"L-Lars...stop that...t-this isn't funny..." Sadie's voice begins to crack and I see her own eyes begin to water. I feel my legs give out, but I don't actually fall down until her arms find their way around my waist.

"S-stop messing with me!" She says in between tears, but the world is moving slowly again. This time, though, it's moving slowly for both of us.

The only difference between me and her is that, unlike me, Sadie refuses to believe that this is actually happening.


	3. Chapter 3

The worst part of my diagnosis has got to be the treatment. I think I can say now that I am one-hundred percent used to the feeling of needles in my skin now. Really. It doesn't even hurt any more.

I've so far had one bone-marrow transplant and as much as you think it would suck, I actually really didn't mind it. At least that part, for the most part, wasn't painful.

It sure as hell was much better than the damn chemo, that's for sure. Never have I felt all different kinds of sick at once, I'm almost completely convinced that this is what dying feels like. I'm going through weird periods of wanting to throw up then never eat anything for as long as I live. The hair loss was another thing I couldn't stand. I'm down to maybe a handful of hair now that I can't really do anything with besides tugging out whatever strands will come with.

Aside from the gross feeling like your constantly going to puke up your religion, which you never actually do, you can never really stand for too long during or after chemo either. You just feel dizzy all the damn time.

Sadie started coming along on these twice a week journeys. I honestly didn't want her anywhere near me at these points, but she insisted she come with.

When she was here, she would not leave me alone to suffer in silence. She was always asking if I needed water or a pillow or something random like that.

"No, I need you to leave." I aimed the second pillow she had brought me in her relative direction, but with a numb feeling in my right arm from all the needles, I missed by a lot. Sadie easily caught it with one hand and set it back on my bed.

"Come on, why won't you let me help you." Sadie asks, her voice getting randomly quiet.

I hated that. I hated it so much. Here Sadie was, wasting her time with me and all I kept doing was pushing her away...She was probably the only real friend I had and here I was asking her to get out.

I had a good reason though! So, yeah, I am kind of a jerk to her...actually...

Shit.

I shouldn't be stressing myself out over this but...man, I really am horrible to her...

She'd sit by my bed all night then head off to work all morning while I laid in bed feeling bad about myself.

She'd come over right after work and I'd lock my bedroom door and tell her to leave.

Even before I got sick, I was horrible to her. I had always been coming in to work late and even then I was sleeping. I made her take care of the things I couldn't handle...just like I was doing now.

I was making her deal with my problems. Everyday she showed up and I'd push her away.

This is why I don't let her help me. She was already doing more for me than she even knew.

And this is exactly why I didn't want her here, too. For once, I was going to help her and not allow her to deal with any of this.

"Lars?" Sadie is holding my numb right hand, so had she not started talking, I would have never noticed.

"Y-yeah?" I seriously hate the way my voice sounds right now. It sounds dry and sickly, kind like in those movies where the guy is stranded in the desert for, like, two weeks, and is crawling around without water and, like, is forced to drink shards of glass or something like that, it just sounds horrible.

"Are you okay? You just kind of zoned out there." She's rubbing the back of my hand with her thumb, but man, does it feel like she's kicking me in the chest by doing that. I pulled my hand away, setting it on top of my other hand,

"Why are you still here?" I pick at my right hand, seeing how much it would take before it began to feel again. Sadie grabs both of my hands now as soon as the numb stupid one starts to turn red. Oh for the love of, now she's rubbing both of them.

"Because I'm not leaving." She offers me the most depressing smile I have ever seen in my entire existence on the fucking planet. Really, it looks like that puppy that got left out in the snow. It was that kind of smile.

"Why?" I pulled both hands away now, but she some how managed to get them back in hers. At that moment, my right hand decides it can magically feel again, Jeez, why the hell are Sadie's hands so warm? And when did mine get cold?

"Because, I can't just leave my best friend while he's in the hospital, right?"

Oh, if that isn't just the biggest kick in the face. I treat her like dirt and she calls me her best friend. If I could just die at this moment, that'd be great.

"S-sure you can. It's not like you should care anyway." I try smirking at her, but that damn kicked-puppy in the snow face she has is making my face do other things.

"Of course I care about you." Why is she holding my hands so tightly now?

"N-no you don't." I just roll my eyes in the opposite direction of her face, but that look still follows me.

"Yes, I do." Sadie gets up and sits herself down on the edge of my bed instead of the chair she had been sitting it. I noticed now just how uncomfortable those damn hospital chairs looked. Man...and she's been sitting there twice a week for at least four hours during chemo.

Maybe I should have been getting her a pillow instead of the other way around.

"Look, Lars, I really do care about you, like, a lot actually. Come on, what else are best friends supposed to do? What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn't here?"

"Will you quit saying that, Player Two!?"

"Saying what?"

"Quite calling me your best friend! Are you stupid!? I treat you like crap and you just keep putting up with it! Stop doing that!" I pull my hands away again and actually make an effort to turn my entire body away from her.

"L-Lars...?" She stills tries and touch my shoulder, which I attempt to shrug off, but she ain't leaving.

"Lars, look at me." She reaches for my other shoulder and turns me to face her. I can't just look at her. That damn kick-snow-puppy look is still there and it makes my eyes water again.

Shit. Nope. Never mind, I'm actually crying this time. I will admit that much.

"W-why do you even c-care?" I ask, but my own voice is replaced by that weird 'gargled gravel in the desert' voice. Sadie's hands go from my shoulders to around my back, bringing me in to an awkward hug. Actually, the only thing that made it awkward was our height difference.

"You're such an idiot. I love you." She is grabbing handfuls of the hospital gown I have on and I really have no idea who to react to it but just pat her back like some nervous virgin loser.

"L-look, Sadie, y-you don-"

"Yes, I do. I can't just stop loving you or caring about you or anything like that. I've know you too long to do that. I put up with everything because I want to. I'm staying by your side because I want to be here to see you get better. I want to see that so bad." She buries her face in my shoulder, sobbing like she just watched some chick flic.

It just seems so unreal to me. This whole thing actually. Being sick, Sadie admitting all of this, me actually not caring about finally having a friend.. jeez. I'm not much for words or human contact for that matter, so I just rest my hand on her back and say the only thing I can think of,

"Yeah, Player Two...I want to see that two..."


	4. Chapter 4

I really didn't expect anyone to notice I was spending so much time at the hospital or expected them to care. I thought I hid being sick well. I started wearing a lot of beanies and hoodies, so no one knew about the lack of hair or the fact that I probably weighed half as much as I used to.

I guess Steven had been asking where I was after the sixth day of me not being in work. Sadie had just told him that I was had been sick. Steven wound up coming to my house with a bowl of, what I am still assuming, was soup.

"Why are you wearing that hat inside?" He let himself in, tromping over to the kitchen, spilling the soup as he walked.

"Because why not, Steven?" I stepped over one of the puddles to grab some paper towel. I wish that I had been just as careful walking back, but now, it didn't work out that way. I wound up slipping in one of the puddles and wound up crashing to the floor. I guess my arm went over my head and knocked the beanie off because next thing I know, Steven is staring at me.

"Lars, what happened to your hair?" He looks more confused than anything else. I stood back up, dusting myself off and reaching for the hat beside me.

"It's nothing, Steven." I put the hat back on, but he isn't convinced.

"Sadie says your sick." He still continues staring at me and I feel the sudden urge to jump out my window to get away from the look.

"Yeah? So. I'm not that sick, Steven."

"But you don't have any hair anymore..."

"Your point is? Steven, I'm fi-"

"Me and Connie were watching some movie...the girl in that movie didn't have any hair either..."

"And?" I folded my arms, leaning against the hallway wall. And that God for that wall behind me, because Steven decides to throw himself at me and hug me like the damn plane is going down.

"She dies at the end!"

"Steven, it was just a stupid movie."

"Lars, are you going to die?" He looks up at me now, freaking crying now. That kid looks like someone took his Cookie Cats away.

"W-what? No. That's crazy! I told you, I ain't that sick."

"Oh...so you don't have what that girl in the movie had."

"What movie are you even talking about." Considering how I really don't have the strength to push the kid away, I tried taking a step away. What he said next made me stop completely though.

"I can't remember the name but she had look-eem-ee-a." Steven scrunches his face, attempting to call back the pronunciation of the illness.

"Leukemia..." I corrected him, staring at the wall in front of me, rather than him.

"Yeah, that...You don't hate that, right?" Steven finally lets go and stands back to look at me.

Never have I felt so exposed in my entire life. I could just lie to him, but I think he'd figure it out eventually, so what's the point.

I'd rather die knowing that I didn't lie to the kid than knowing that I did.

"No, that's exactly what I have actually." I put my hands in my pockets and headed in to the kitchen to clean up the mess. I don't even have to look to know that Steven's eyes widened now. Maybe I shouldn't have put it like that, but whatever was said was already said.

There's a full two minutes of completely silence before the kid throws me into a hug again, not even giving me time to brace myself as I head to the floor for the second time today.

"I DON'T WANT YOU TO DIE!" He sobs into my shirt. I would have been sobbing with him, but like most cases, I actually just got pissed off.

"Steven, get off of me!" I sit up, managing to at least get an arm in between us, but other than that, the kid wasn't moving.

"YOU CAN'T DIE, LARS!" He wails, tightening his hold. There isn't much of me to hug, so he manages to wrap his arms around me at least twice.

"I'm not gonna die, Steven."

"B-but the girl in the mov-"

"I know, Steven. But it was just a movie. I'm gonna be fine."

"B-but-"

"Steven, I ain't gonna die."

"Promise?"

Shit...what do I do now? I mean...does promising something jinx it? How does that weird, spiritual-mythical-whatever crap work anyway?

"Uh...Sure..."

"Pinky Promise?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." I finally manage to get him off of me and attempt to clean up the soup puddles again, but that's when probably the worst possible thing to happen at this point in time occurs.

It's near the sink when it happens, so at least I have something to grab on to, but the room keeps on spinning, so I have to kneel after a little while. Dizziness just seems to love to mess with me right now.

"Lars, are you okay?" Steven kneels beside me, "Do I need to go get Sadie."

"Nah, Steven, I told ya," I try to breathe to hold back sudden nausea, "I'll be fine."


	5. Chapter 5

A recent bone marrow transplant wound up leaving me in the hospital longer than I wanted. Sadie and Steven visited whenever Sadie was off work and could give Steven a ride. They usually brought a box of donuts along and Steven talked loudly with the nurses outside my door, already knowing them by name and favorite type of donut.

"Jelly for Margret and sprinkles for Susan. Hey, is Kelly in today?" He asks, making his usually rounds to all the nurses. Amber, a short nurse with stick-straight brown hair, is already halfway done with her donut,

"She's on break. She'll be back in a minute." She says in between chews that literally made my skin crawl.

Or that was the sudden chills...ya never know, really.

"How's Lars doing?" Sadie asks, close enough to my door that I can hear her without having the strain my ears. Margret answers this one,

"He's doing better today, actually. Could stand some improvement though."

"Improvement how?"

"Well...he'll be out of the hospital by Thursday if that's what you're asking."

This caused me to feel physically sick. Today was only Sunday; if this meant anything to me, it was that I wasn't getting better.

I think what made me feel worse was that no one was telling me anything. Even now when Sadie asked what was going on, she never got a real answer, meaning I never got a real answer either. You feel kind of senseless after awhile, where all you can do is lay in a hospital bed, stupid to your own deteriorating body.

Okay, maybe stupid isn't the right word...

Drained, more like it. You feel drained of emotion, strength, and patience.

Patience being something I seem to lack a lot now-a-days.

A new nurse tells me every day I have some visitors, usually Sadie and Steven or my parents, but I never want to talk to them. I don't even want to talk to the nurse standing beside my bed. Some of the other nurses have come to learn this and work silently, usually changing an I.V bag and going on their way. It's probably Monday morning when a rather ditzy looking nurse comes to my room. She's got to be new here as she won't shut the hell up as she works. Honestly, the only thing keeping me from jumping out a window is the heart monitor I'm on, but even that can't hold me for another two seconds.

"Oh and ya got another visitor, peach pie." she squeaks, jotting something down on a clip board.

"Never call me that again." I attempt to sound perfectly annoyed, but am just too damn tired. She giggles to herself for some random reason or another and pretty much skips away.

The knock on my door a few seconds later lets me know that she actually let whoever showed up in.

"What?" I pull my blankets up higher out of pure habit, trying to cover whatever , picklines, or monitor. They usually stared if I didn't; I hate it when they stare.

"Hey, kid. How you doin' today?"

This voice is complete new- okay, not completely new; I know exactly who it is without even looking up, but that doesn't make a difference to me.

"Mr. Smiley? What are you doing here?" To put it simply, I'm confused. Why did he of all people have to show up? Like, doesn't he have an arcade to run or something?

"Just checkin' in on ya. Brought ya somethin'." He holds up an over-sized dog stuffed animal wearing a ninja suit, one I probably dreamed of winning as a kid, but never had the tickets or bribe money to do so.

"Uh...thanks?" I have to rub the back of my neck to keep myself from getting all flustered. That was actually pretty nice of him, I mean, weird...but nice.

"Where should I put it?" He asks, looking around for a free space. Since I've been in the hospital nearly five days, there's quite a few presents, clothes, random papers from pointless games of tic-tac-toe and boxes of snuck in 'real food' that I continue to lie about and say I'll eat sooner or later (half of those have probably gone bad already)

"Um...j-just put it...somewhere..." I trailed off at that last part, finding absolutely no joy in finding a 'home' for a bear that'll probably tear once I get it home or be left behind here for the next person to figure out what to do with. Mr. Smiley on the other hand is looking for a spot like his life depends on it.

He winds up setting it on the foot of my bed and if I wasn't so modest, I would have tossed it off instantly. The older guy chuckles for some reason and sits himself down in a chair beside my bed, usually containing Sadie, who had been working over time since I was gone.

"So, how ya feelin', kid?" Mr. Smiley turns his chair to face me, as if whatever I was about to say was the most interesting thing in all of history.

"Uh...fine, I guess." I add it a shoulder shrug to further show how 'fine' I was. He claps a hand to my shrugged shoulder, as if that would provide him with some kind of truth. It doesn't, so he just adds in another misplaced chuckle.

"Well, accordin' to the nice nurses out there, you're doin' great." He smiles brightly, which spark something in me.

How can he say that? How can anyone say that? How can anyone who just walks on in here tell me that I'm going to be just fine?

I know I'm not getting better. I don't need any doctor, nurse, or visitor to tell me that. I can feel it after ever transplant and ever round of chemo. They just keep adding up and they aren't paying off. I feel like I wouldn't even be able to wrestle myself if I had to, that's how damn week I feel. Every moment, I just want to shut my eyes and let go already. I just want it to be over already.

"Ya know something, Lars, I remember the first time ya came in to the arcade." He leans back in his chair, looking fondly at some random corner of the room.

"Yeah, so?"

He looks, at first, caught of guard that I was even talking. He then smiles softly, like he knew some huge secret.

"You were probably shorteh than Steven...maybe shorteh...and ya always wanted to play Round-House Racers."

"Yeah...I remember..." I leaned back on my pillow, trying to think back far enough to the memories we were both trying to recall and how that could possibly connect back to our current conversation.

"But, you were too dang little to even reach the game." He laughs a bit, leaning back in his own chair, "You were always sayin' how once ya could reach it, ya'd finally get enough tickets to win that 2000 ticket ninja dog ya wanted so bad."

"Yeah. And I couldn't do it..." I think I remember quite clearly kicking the game and needing to go to the hospital for breaking to toes on it.

"No, but ya tried. I remembeh once ya even brought in a step ladder to try and reach it."

"Why are you telling me this?" I was starting to get annoyed agian, feeling like this whack was wasting whatever time I had left to live.

"I'm tellin' ya this...so you remember...You had an obstacle in yo' way...but ya didn't let that stop ya from trying to find a way around it."

"Yeah, but I never did get enough ti-" Looking back at the edge of my bed, I noticed eactly which stuffed animal had been brought to me.

"Sometimes, ya need a bit of help and support. You already got that much. Now ya just need to find yo' way around this obstacle. Yo' gettin' better and ya don't even realize. One o' these days, you gone be walkin' out that door with this chapteh behind ya." He sets his hand on my shoulder and turns to leave, "Gotta get back to the arcade. Feel betteh kid."

For the first time in days, I don't feel irritated. Nah...I feel...angry.

Not with the vistors or the nurses or anyone else...just with myself.

Deciding to fall forward instead of backward, I landed face first in the ninja dog stuffed animal. I was going to need some sleep after _that_ emotional rollercoaster.


	6. Chapter 6

Summer came and went faster than I would have liked it to. I had so many plans for it that I didn't actually get to see happen. By now, the kids who still wen to school returned and everyone else moved on to find other things to do.

Connie and PeeDee where back in school, usually being followed around by Steven.

Sadie, Jenny, Kiki, Ronaldo, Buck, and Sour Cream went back to work, or, in the cool kids' case, hanging out where work was being done.

And in my case, I was routinely at the hospital, either with chemo or more transplants.

I can't complain to much about that, though. It was finally getting cold out, so I had even more of a reason to constantly be wearing a beanie to cover my lack of hair. It was too weird to wake up every morning knowing I had absolutely no hair, so the beanie never really left my head. I was hardly at work and when the other became to busy to keep up with my hospital stays, I got a lot of time alone. It gave me plenty of time to think about what I'd do when the 'big nap' came. I actually started writing up my will on the back of napkins that were usually left from lunch. I'd think of some random item in my room, write that down, then jot a name next to it.

Sometimes, I couldn't decided who to give something to, so I'd leave that up for auction. I'd usually have to set my pen down and laugh at that. For some reason, the idea of Mr. Smiley with one of the auctioneer mallets, rattling off which ever item Mr. Universe held up was hilarious to me. I'd actually laugh so hard, a nurse would bring me in water and whack me on the back of the head so I wouldn't choke. Her face would light up a bit though. She was just happy to see me happy.

I felt like I had more control over the situation when I was writing these wills. It was at least one thing that I still had a say in. When I'd finish a fill, I'd fold it up and hide it in my pillow case, feeling way to much pride in it. Though, I started thinking after awhile that maybe I shouldn't be hiding the wills. When I died, who would know where they were, but me? Jeez...Maybe I'd just leave them on my desk.

* * *

><p>I'm not getting better, I found out at one doctor's appointment. I actually kind of expected this, so it wasn't really a shock.I just kind of- well, at this point, all I really can do is accept it. All it means to me now is higher doses of chemo and really, I could give a shit about those now. Actually, if it wasn't for my parents urging me to keep doing them, I would stop all together. If I wasn't getting better now, why would it matter to me if I kept doing it? I would just die feeling like I was going to die. That didn't sound like fun.<p>

Nah, I'd rather just go out knowing that I died of leukemia and not because I failed at getting better.

All this thinking was starting to make me depressed, actually. I've learned that being sick can actually get kind of lonely. You feel like your in prison; everyone walks past you, freely living their lives, running around and all that. And then, here I am, trapped in a sick body that's slowly stopping, not able to get away from it and live life the way I want.

And, though people will visit you, they'll never feel the way you do. They are scared too, but not in the same ways you are.

Scared...that's a word I haven't used yet; why exactly is that?

I guess because it's not the right word. I'm not, 'scared', but something along those lines. Maybe terrified is the right word, but I don't know if even that covers it.

I always imagined dying as an unexpected thing. Like how they do it in the movies, like when the guy gets shot from behind, or like that old chick in Titanic who died in her sleep.

Apparently, according to the internet, she didn't die, but that's just stupid. It just works with my example anyway.

It's not something I ever expected would happen. Five months ago, I had just turned eighteen. I was so ready to hit it off on my own, maybe get my own place, a better job, a girlfriend? Jeez, maybe I could have even gotten out of Beach City and traveled for awhile. I had graduated, so it's not like I had any ties to school anymore.

But. nope. I was here. Constantly getting signed in and out of the hospital by my parents while I struggled with leukemia. I didn't have time for a better job or a girlfriend anymore, and actually began to appreciate the lack of stress that living with my parents provided me with. As for traveling, I just didn't have the energy for it any more.

All I wanted to do now was have enough strength to get out of my hospital bed and walk to the beach that I could see from my window. I had wanted to get away from it so bad until this point. I kept telling myself I wanted to go some where new until I found out I would be taken from it sooner than I thought.

I'm laying away in my own bed in my own home when I think about this.

I just wanted to walk on the beach one more time...I'd live for that much...

My life couldn't be ending like this... no, I won't let it. I'll get on that beach sooner or later. And once I can do that much, I'm gonna get that better job and get my own place like I said I would. Then, I'm gonna get a girlfriend, and damn it, I'm gonna take her traveling with me.

Yeah...that sounded like a plan...

**_A/N; So, a few of you have been telling me that this ties in with the show well. I actually kind of based it around connections I made in the show that lead me to think Lars may have leukemia or something. _**

**_1. Sadie grew leg hair in the episode, Island Adventure, meanwhile, Lars did not. He didn't grow any type of hair actually. Almost like it was never there to begin with. My friend, who went through chemo, only seems to grow hair on his head after words. An interesting idea._**

**_2. All the Frymens have clearly shaved heads. It's drawn a certain way to show that they are, in fact, shaved. Lars is, instead, drawn a lot like how Greg and Mr. Smiley's heads are drawn, which in their case, is actually bald. However, in Mr. Smiley and Greg's case, their's is due to age. Lars is a young guy, which wouldn't make much sense as to why he was already bald. His hair didn't even grow to a shaved look in Island Adventure._**

**_This story had two or three more chapters. What shall happen to Lars? DUN, DUN, DUNNNNNNNNNN!_**


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Hello Lovely Followers**_.

**_You all have been so kind during the development of my fanfictions, Life goes on and Sadie and Lars: Where is all began. I've decided to treat you all with a mini series of cartoon versions of some of your favorite chapters. Comment which chapters you would like to see as a cartoon and we will make it happen :D_**

**_Thank you all so very much! I hope you enjoy the rest of these stories as I continue to write them!_**

**_~CoolioChick5_**


	8. Chapter 8

Winter was a dark time for me. I did embrace it for a little while, enjoying the lack of questions about the knitted hat I was always wearing, but soon was getting pretty frustrated with it. My mom didn't want me to get even more sick than I already was, so she made me stay inside pretty much ever time it would snow and ever time the temperature dipped below twenty degrees. As if life wasn't already lonely, I'd sit by my window, watching the younger kid pelt each other with snow balls and everyone over the age of eighteen (not including me) either swear loudly about their car door being frozen or getting frozen to the bone outside.

I'd open my window just a bit to let the cold air in, probably reaching out on to the roof to grab a handful of snow, but it never made up for not being outside in it.

As soon as I closed my window, the room was warm again and the snow ball I just made melted in my hand, leaving behind one of the most depressing puddles, I had ever seen in my whole life.

Yes, how depressing, a handful of water was actually making me depressed. How wonderful.

"Lars," My mom called up the stairs, "You better not have that window open again."

Doing what any self respecting man of my kind would do, I shoved my hand, water and everything, into my pocket, "No, mom, I don't." I called back, trying to add a bit more bite to my voice. She tended to leave me alone if I did that, assuming she had woke me up out of a sound sleep or something.

That was only sort of a bonus. It had gotten to a point now that I actually despised sleep. If I could take back every time I ever slept through work or class, damn t, I would. I would go back in time and kick my own ass for sleeping so much. Hell, I'd go all Clock Work Orange too, if it meant staying up.

Now a days, I would do anything I could possibly think to do in my room, ironically enough, rereading Clock Work Orange was one of those things, just to stay up. I'd stare out my window and watch the sun rise every morning, then shove my head into arms full of snow just to stay awake long enough to actually enjoy the surprisingly beautiful day.

When the sun was finally up and the kids started coming around, I'd start cheering them on from my window, watching the intensity of their snow wars. As soon as the one purple crystal gem got involved, I usually began shouting comments from the open window until my mom called up to me.

Today, however, my mom wasn't leaving me alone at all.

"How are you feeling?" She nudged my bedroom door open with her hip, carrying in a basket of laundry.

"Uh..fine I guess." I had sat back down on my bed, staying as far away from my window as possible, not wanting to hear yet another long lecture from my mother about flu season.

"Good, good...you really should pick up your room, hun." she commented, picking up one of the only shirts I had on my floor, folding it up and putting it on my bed. I would have told her that the shirt was dirty, but then she'd go through my room and clean everything again, so I didn't bother.

"Why do I need to clean it, anyway? It's just me in here." I pulled my legs up onto my bed, tucking them under me. I didn't slouch as much anymore, just because my mother would suddenly freak out and that would get my dad worked up and they'd usually start arguing over how I was feeling, not bothering to ask me why I couldn't seem to support myself.

Whatever.

"You're friends are coming over later." She said, finding some other mess in my room to clean, in this case, rearranging my rock collection that I may or may not actually have.

"Uh...what?" Did my mom finally lose it? The only friend I actually had who came over to my house was Sadie...and that one time where the cool kids came over, but could I seriously count that as 'hanging with friends'? No! And why the hell would they be coming over? What did I ever do to them!?

"Yes, your friends. All of them actually. I got at least three phone calls saying they were coming over." She is now putting books that I didn't even realize I owned away while I just kind of sit on my bed like an idiot, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Mom, what fr-" There's a sudden knock at the door and my mom leaves my room, going to answer it. I tug the blanket back over myself, knocking over the shirt my mom just folded, wanting nothing more to sit in my blanket nest, dwelling on shit I never did.

"He's in his room." I heard mom say, so I sat up again, trying to hear her better. I could make out a bunch of different voices and tried to match voices to names.

"How's he doing?" Sadie.

"Is he dead yet?" Peedee.

"I brought brownies!" Steven.

"Peedee!" Kiki.

"This is going on my blog! Time to raise awareness!" Ronaldo.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Sour Cream, actually.

"Well, you can ask him yourself." Mom finally said, the creaking of the door hinges let me know that she was actually letting them in to the house.

I didn't have much time to make myself even remotely presentable, really only having time to sit up straighter and put my beanie back on before everyone came piling into my room. For a few minutes, everyone just stood around, either looking at each other or the floor. If I had it my way, I would have completely disappeared by now, but that wasn't going to happen, so I just did what they did in the movies,

"Uh...so are you guys gonna sit down or what?" I tried to add it a laugh so they'd stop staring at me like I was going to shatter. The laugh seemed to work as suddenly those looks of grief turned in to smiles and before I knew it, Sadie, Connie, Buck, and Jenny were sitting on my bed. Sour Cream leaned against the door and Steven, Peedee, and Onion found spots on the floor. Ronaldo stayed standing, but was getting way to close to my personal space, note pad and pen in hand.

We all sat awkwardly now, no one wanting to strike up any type of conversation, scared of saying the wrong thing. Kiki was the first to say anything and I was actually kind of relieved by that. What she said didn't strike me as off or anything, but did annoy me slightly. I had been asked this question so many times.

"So...y-you really are sick?"

"Yeah...been sick since this summer..."

"Do you, uh..." Buck can't seem to finish his sentence, but I catch on.

"No, I don't have any hair left...want to see?" What was the point in hiding it at this point? They already asked the one question that the beanie was supposed to stop. I didn't even wait for an answer, taking my hat off in one move. Their faces went from curious to stunned, and it was honestly a transformation that I would probably remember for the rest of my life.

That's when something very unexpected happened.

Connie began to cry.

I never...well, I knew Connie. She was friends with Steven, kind of soft spoken, and was trapped in that weird bubble thing once. That's about all I knew. As far as what she knew about me, well, man, not even I knew that much.

Sadie put her arm around the girl, like the hug would take back what she saw. The cool kids' eyes found the floor again and Ronaldo was suddenly very, very close to me.

"H-Hey...what's up kid?" My eyes were still locked on Connie. I didn't get it. Why was she so sad? She didn't even know me...

"I-I'm sorry...m-my mom is a d-doctor...I-I've seen r-really s-sick people...h-how a-are you s-so c-calm about it?" She rubs her eyes and looks back up at me. She gave me this look of curiosity, almost like she was admiring me. For a moment, I felt like I was the strongest person she knew.

"What do you mean, how am I so calm?" I added in that laugh again, but it didn't seem to work this time.

"How? Lars...do you realize what you're sick with?" Sadie bit back the urge to scream, I could tell in her voice, and I suddenly realized something.

They were just as confused as I was.

They couldn't figure out why my world hadn't stopped.

They were as upset as I was.

They were as curious as I was.

And really, they were as scared as I was.

They felt defenseless like I did, I couldn't fight my own illness and neither could they...Their worlds stopped when mine did. They couldn't fight the leukemia for me, so they stopped and stared along with me, trying to understand why things had to be this way.

And just like that, my world began moving again.

"I do...I do realize how sick I am...and I'm scared too...but I'm gonna get better." I finally smiled, watching it spread to everyone else in the room.

"W-what's it like?" Jenny finally asked, feeling more comfortable with asking me these things. I figured that it was best to answer these questions, maybe then we could find some sense in this.

"Well...when I got diagnosed..it was weird. I didn't realize how serious it was because it wasn't something I even noticed...and then, I had to walk out of the office and face everyone...but, no one seemed to notice. It got frustrating then when everyone else went on with life while I was stuck in the hospital all the time...people who did notice didn't seem to understand it...and that was frustrating too. They thought that since I was sick, I was just going to die...I thought that for awhile too. But, in reality, getting diagnosed didn't guarantee I was gonna die. I wasn't going to allow it to. I just stayed awake one night and kept thinking of things I wanted to do and not dwelling on things I didn't do, and it kind of gave me a will to actually live again." I looked back up to see everyone move in just a bit closer so they could hear my story.

I, for once, didn't feel so lonely. Here was a group of...my friends. And they were actually concerned about me...I never knew how that felt until I looked at all their faces, made eye contact really, and realized just why they had showed up here.

"Anything else you'd like to tell the world about leukemia?" Ronaldo asks, having jotted down everything I had been saying.

"Erh.. the world?" I leaned back on my pillow to get a better look at him.

"Yeah! Check it." He digs in to his pocket and snatches up his cellphone, scrolling through it for a bit before he finds what he's looking for.

"Keep Beach City Weird?" I asked, taking the phone to do a bit of investigating. There is a post titled 'Leukemia in Beach City', but nothing written below it.

"I'm using my blog and other social media to promote awareness! Ain't that cool?" Ronaldo takes his phone back and I'm actually kind of shocked,

"Yeah...real cool actually." I can't find it in myself to smile at the moment, still trying to let everything settle for me. Luckily, Steven has my back,

"I brought brownies!" He holds up the pan,

"Sure, Steven, let's get started on those brownies. I sat up a bit more, looking back at everyone. Once my illness was explained and the brownies were gone, I felt like a huge weight was lifted from the room. With questions answered, the topic was now changed to some song that everyone had heard but me and resulted in a small rave demonstration by Sour Cream. By the end of the night, I had actually got out of bed, following the group down stairs,seeing them out.

I went to bed that night with a smile on my face, adding everyone who was here tonight to my plans for when this was all over.

* * *

><p>Spring had gotten rid of all the snow and before anyone had time to enjoy the warm weather, the summer heat had returned. The kids got out of school again and whoever wasn't in school anymore was now enjoying their part time jobs, including me.<p>

It was been a year, two months, a week, and three days since I was diagnosed and today, I felt tears sting the back of my eyes as the nurse removed my IV.

"There it is. You're done." Her own tears slid down her cheek as she smiled at me.

"Thanks. For everything" I stood, reaching for my jacket. My parents talked with my doctor while I tapped my fingers, the small movements being the only thing keeping me from jumping around and cheering. I had Steven to do that for me.

"Lars is all better, Lars is all better!" He sang, dragging a wagon in to my room.

"Steven! I told you not to bring the wagon." Sadie scolds, followed behind by Peedee and Connie. A glance out the window lets me know that the others are close behind.

"But what if he's too tired to walk." Steven asked, climbing in to the wagon. I actually laughed at that,

"Thanks for thinkin' of my, Steven, but I'll be fine."

And so I was wrong, still a bit to dizzy to really stand by myself, but I enjoyed it this time. It would probably be the last time I felt that sort of sick, so I might as well enjoy it, right?

Ronaldo and Kiki stand on either side of me, letting me lean of them if I needed to and help me walk out the hospital doors.

"So...what do we do now?" Buck looks around now.

"Well..I don't know about you guys...but there's a beach right there that I'd like to get to." I look over at the water just a short distance from the hospital, the same beach that I had so desperately wanted to get away from.

But that was alright. While I had been sick, I realized that all of this was just a chapter in my life that was now over. I could move on from there, start new plans, go on new adventures. Laying out on the beach, surrounded by friends, i realized something.

Life goes on whether you like it or not.

Make the best of it.


End file.
